Frank and Julie

Friday, Day 5

Julie awoke from her serene, dreamless sleep and set about her usual morning routine: bathroom, chores, diary, crossword. Same old, same old.

And then?

Not exactly same old, same old. Julie spent the remainder of her day wearing a funny hat while practicing kissing in front of a mirror.

Yes, the whole rest of the day. And no, we don’t get it either.

We don’t have a wannabe actress or a budding narcissist—or some combination of the two—on our hands, do we? That doesn’t really seem like Julie-esque behavior.

Maybe it’s a girl thing.

A girl-in-love-thing?

A girl-expecting-a-proposal thing?

Whatever it was, hunger eventually dragged Julie away from the mirror, and to the stove to prepare some macaroni and cheese.

Mac and cheese is not the most complicated of dishes to prepare; nor are the ingredients renowned for their flammability. But Julie is not the most experienced of cooks, and her mind was clearly elsewhere as items atop the stove grew hotter and hotter…

Julie had a brief moment of panic, then calmed herself with the knowledge that the fire department would surely arrive any moment.

She then realized that she had never furnished her home with a smoke detector. And had a slightly longer moment of panic.

That moment, too, passed, as Julie put her hands on a fire extinguisher and put out the fire herself.

(She didn’t remember ever purchasing a fire extinguisher; but Julie did not allow herself to dwell on this. As everyone knows, one should never look a gift extinguisher in the mouth.)

Julie discarded the lump of carbon which had been meant to be Kraft Dinner, as well as the pot it was smoldering in, and ordered some Chinese to be delivered instead. In her nervousness and delayed hunger, she polished off two containers in short order, and had started on a third when fatigue finally outweighed any remaining hunger.

There was first a little bedtime reading to finish calming the nerves, and then it was off to a deep dreamless sleep. A deep and long sleep. After the trauma of the fire, Julie had a good lie-in until 11 the next morning.

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Frank’s Friday got off to a roaring start as he woke at eight, got up, made his bed…and promptly laid down again for a little relaxation and daydreaming. He finally rose again, for good, when the desire for a doughnut became just too powerful to resist.

As he finished his breakfast, Frank spotted an Elf Puddle walking by. He dashed outside to greet her, seized with the desire to…talk her into cleaning his house. Which she began to do, while he picked up the phone and called Julie.

“Why don’t you come over? I’m having the house cleaned especially nicely, just for you.

“No, I didn’t hire a maid.

“Of course not, silly. Elfie’s just a friend I just met.”

To help dispel any lingering doubts she might have had about the house-cleaning arrangement, Frank greeted Julie enthusiastically upon her arrival.

Elfie—who had just taken out the trash—looked on, amused.

She grew slightly less amused when Frank, wishing to keep all doubts as dispelled as possible, neglected to introduce her to Julie. He in fact ignored his new house-cleaning friend completely, as he took Julie’s hand and led her straight to the bedroom.

Luckily for Frank, Elfie is not one to easily take offense, or to hold on to grudges. She shrugged off the snub, got comfortable on the couch, and watched some television as Frank and Julie…um…entertained each other.

“Were those train noises? And someone making honking sounds?”

Yes, Elfie; we believe those were.

“They didn’t come from the TV, did they? I haven’t watched television in some time, it’s true; but I’m still pretty sure those noises aren’t a normal part of Iron Chef.”

No. No they aren’t.

“Mmm. Can I pretend that the noises came from the TV anyway?”

If it makes you feel better, sure. Pretend away.

In time, Frank and Julie emerged from the bedroom, and Julie took the opportunity to introduce herself to Elfie. While Frank…um…

You know, Frank, there’s more than one way for us to interpret that.

As for what came next—well, there was only one way to interpret that. With Elfie as a witness, Frank asked Julie a very important question.

An ecstatic Julie wasted no time in putting on the ring, admiring it in the light…and admiring her Frank, as he gazed up at her rapturously.

Overcome with emotion, Julie leapt into Frank’s arms…while Elfie put on a solemn expression, trying not to let her own emotions steal the show. A noble effort, Elfie; but we can tell you’re touched, and we see your eyes glistening just a skosh.

Elfie was, in fact, so tickled to have been there for the proposal that she was easily persuaded to fix dinner for everyone. This left Frank and Julie free to celebrate…

…to celebrate in the way you would expect a couple full of passionate love to celebrate their joy and devotion…

…to celebrate the only way you would expect them to celebrate, if their names are Frank and Julie.

Dinner was soon served, and the happy couple gave each other gooey-eyed looks and played footsie as they absently picked at their macaroni and cheese.

“Oh, Frank.”

“Yes, my Julie.”

“Mmm.”

“Mmmmmm.”

(And so on, and so forth.)

They were joined at the table by their new volunteer domestic servant, who was finally getting at least something—if only a cheap meal she had to cook herself—out of all her hard work.

Elfie did not pick absently at her food.

Frank finally tore himself away from the looks and the sighs and the footsie, and got up to clear his plate.

And…uh, Frank? Frank?

Frank not only cleared his dish, but also Elfie’s, so she wouldn’t have to get up.

He left Julie’s dish right where it sat.

(Apparently there were, indeed, two different ways to interpret that thought of his earlier.)

After dinner, Frank and Julie socialized with Elfie some more: Frank with the intent of becoming Elfie’s friend (which he accomplished), Julie with the intent of making sure Elfie didn’t become anything more than Frank’s friend (also accomplished). As bedtime approached, Elfie said her goodbyes and left.

Julie stayed the night. And helped Frank get to sleep by making him very relaxed, in her own special, drift-off-to-sleep-thinking-only-of-me way. It wasn’t long thereafter that they were both off in dreamland.

“I really do love Julie.”

“You know, I really don’t think I care much for butter.”

Next installment: Let’s have a wedding! (But do plenty of reading and diary-writing and skilling first!)

Thursday, Day 4

Frank arose at 5:30 feeling mighty fine. He drew himself a bubble bath, and sat in the tub a good while, daydreaming about getting engaged to Julie.

Afterwards, it was time to take some practical steps in that direction. Frank did a little remodeling of the Shorikiki, expanding the bedroom just enough to accomodate a double bed, and removing the wall between the now-smaller bathroom and the toilet.

A little cleaning, some breakfast, and bill-paying followed; and then it was time to invite Julie over to see the results of the remodeling. After the events of the previous day, one couldn’t help imagining the inspection of the bedroom turning into a rather hot time.

Frank and Julie, for their part, couldn’t help being themselves.

(Frank did eventually get some nice makeout time on the couch, however, before catching the carpool for work.)

After work, it was a quick shower and then straight to bed, where Frank slept soundly, knowing that he’d had a perfectly productive and enjoyable day…even if he hadn’t exactly kept his unseen audience on the edge of its seat in the process.

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After the big night the day before, Julie slept in until 10:30. Which still left enough time for her morning crossword (of course), some chores, and some reading (of course).

Followed by her diary. (Of course.)

Would there be actual spillage of juicy tidbits this time? Surely Julie had plenty to talk about after the long, passionate afternoon and evening she spent at Frank’s.

“You know, that Kevin fellow is awfully attractive.”

Hey. Hey! Now that sounds like we’ve got some juicy potential here. Is it a secret crush? Cold feet about getting serious with Frank? A romantic triangle in the offing?

Oh, such drama this promises us! Whispers and lies and two-timing! Local gossip and rumor mills going wild! Covert assignations in downtown photo booths!

Oh, we’re sorry, Julie. Our imaginations ran off with us there for a minute. Do carry on with the diary confessions.

“But what am I going on about him for? You know that whatever happens, I will always love you, dear Diary. You will forever be my first love…

“…well, you and crosswords, of course.”

Sigh.

Revealing? We suppose.

A little sad? Perhaps.

Juicy? Um…no.

After reassuring her diary of the constancy of her affections, Julie headed off to work. To everyone’s relief.

Including that of a local canine named Alabama, who had been waiting for Julie to leave before starting some excavating in the corner of the lot.

Alabama dug, took a break to follow Simmie Cal down the sidewalk and growl and bark (hey, she doesn’t think much of you either, poochie), then kept digging, finally wandering off not long before Julie returned from work.

It had been a quiet night at the police station—quiet even by Cardinal standards—so Julie still had some energy left when she returned home. And so, she…

…headed straight for the bathroom mirror, and worked on her Charisma skill until the wee hours?

Well. That’s different.

Let’s try something different ourselves, shall we? Julie says she never dreams, but we’ve never believed that, have we?

So let’s sneak in and see just what Julie was up to in dreamland, after so much practicing in front of her mirror before bedtime.

Does she dream of Frank? Of Kevin?

Does she have a sweet, tender dream about her diary? We’ll take that, if we have to. We can work with it.

Gaaack!

We shall never speak of this again. Understand? Never.

And we shall, in future, take Julie at her word when she tells us she does not dream. Better yet, we will do so retroactively. So…(ahem)…

…as Julie slept, dreamlessly, Alabama returned to dig still more. Apparently the dog has been told that a shortcut to China may be found in that particular corner of the lot.

Just why Alabama is so intent on getting to China, we may never know.

Next installment: Remember what we were saying about bells?

Wednesday, Day 3

Frank’s day off, like Julie’s, started with familiar routine. First came a bubble bath (he is one boy who never grew out of bubble baths), then some tidying up around the place, then the morning newspaper and a doughnut.

After his morning ritual, Frank wanted more than anything to pick up where he had left off in Crime-Scene Cleanup and You. His last study session had ended in the middle of an interesting section concerning press relations—Chapter 23, “Fifty-Seven Ways To Tell Nancy Grace To Get Lost”—and he was eager to learn the remaining twenty-six.

But he had only covered the next four when he spotted a neighbor walking by. Recognizing her from the One-Twenty-Five, he set his studies aside and went out to greet her.

“Yes, I remember seeing you downtown too. Glad I stumbled across your house this morning. You can call me ‘Sleepy Cat’…and what was your name?”

“Frank…and you can call me ‘Frank’.”

Frank looked awfully pleased; and he sure did put that book down quickly. Could Julie have herself a rival already?

That would largely depend on what Sleepy Cat had in mind when she stopped by Frank’s house. What was she after? Did she fancy Frank? Was she hoping for a tour of the Shorikiki? Did she want to borrow his copy of Crime-Scene Cleanup and You?

Nope. None of the above. She was only after his gnome.

Frank went back inside, returned to his reading, and resolved to not let anyone else interrupt him on his day off. The resolution held until half-past three, when his doorbell rang, and he saw it was Julie.

“See? I crossed the street for you today.”

“You don’t have to ring the bell, silly. Especially since I don’t really have a front door.

“Now let’s see if I can remember how shy girls like you like to say hello…”

“Mmm. Mmmmmm.

“Mmm hmm. I think you’ve got it.

“But feel free to practice some more.”

“If you say so.”

Julie’s visit was getting itself off to a fine start. A bit of flirting, a lot of kissing, and nary a book or newspaper in sight.

But did the two of them plan to stay out front on the sidewalk all afternoon? It’s ever so much cozier and more comfortable inside, you know.

(Even without a proper front door.)

“If you think you’ve been well and truly greeted now, maybe you’d like to come inside and get more comfortable.”

“I was about to give up on waiting for you to ask.”

It is ever so nice when one’s sims listen to reason.

And so Frank and Julie went inside, hand in hand; and headed straight for the couch, with the intent of getting cozy.

Very cozy.

“It’s a pity I’m so shy, isn’t it, Frank? Otherwise, I might lead you to that bed over there…”

Very, very cozy.

(And no, Julie, we don’t find you shy. For one thing, you didn’t bother to ask us to leave just then.

Or even to put away our camera.)

All that getting cozy made the two of them a bit peckish; so after a while, Frank got up to make some spaghetti.

He took care to cook the pasta to the perfect al dente firmness…which Julie would have noted and appreciated, were she not distracted by the fact that he hadn’t bothered to put any clothes on.

“I wouldn’t trade that for the whole world.”

“What, the spaghetti? If the whole world were yours, you could have all the pasta you wanted, Frank.”

“You know what I meant, silly.

“Now let’s clear up the dishes.”

“Ooh…I could attack you right here.”

“Okay.

“But put down that dish first.”

They kept each other company until nearly eleven, when Frank was tired enough that he had to call it a night. Julie wished him sweet dreams.

And dream he did.

“Damn, I’m good in bed. If I do say so myself.”

That might not be exactly what Julie had in mind, but it will have to do.

And at least you let us in on what you’re dreaming about, Frank. Unlike some people in this neighborhood.

Yes, we know she says she doesn’t dream. We don’t credit that.

No, we don’t know how we’re talking to you in the middle of your dreams either. Just part of life’s sweet mystery, we suppose. Now get your rest, Frank.

Next installment: Are those bells we hear in the distance?